Blessed Are They
by ALittleBuzzyBee
Summary: When the Fifth Blight threatens to destroy everything in its path, a group of heroes steps up to face it alone, but with a memory that haunts her every move, is Eilidh Cousland the hero everyone thinks she is?


Prologue

_The one who repents, who has faith,_

_Unshaken by the darkness of the world,_

_She shall know true peace._

-Transfigurations 10:1

Eilidh was afraid of the moon. Afraid of everybody's faith in it. The lonely glowing orb that hung in the sky, lighting the way for the midnight traveller. The moon is good, everyone said, the moon is safe. Yet how could so much trust be placed in something so silent? Eilidh would look into the sky and see only a pale, featureless face staring back, always staring. As the nights crawled by, that face would slice into pieces until there was nothing left of it. But it would always return.

Tonight was a moonless one. When the new moon was in, the guards lit more torches than usual, bathing the castle and the sky around it in a comforting orange mist. Eilidh crouched in her open window, nightdress tucked around her feet to protect them from the cold stone ledge. It was easier to read by the light of the torches if she was sitting closer to the window. It may have been warmer to light a candle by her bed but the flickering light would slip under her door where Nan might see it. Cold feet were a small price to pay compared to the wrath of Nan. The old nursemaid had a temper not unlike a rabid Mabari hound and although she would have fought a dragon to protect her young charges, she was stricter than an army general. Better to have cold toes.

The heavy book in Eilidh's arms was a fully illustrated copy of the Chant of Light. It had been presented to her on her most recent birthday by the Sisters who ran the castle chantry. Fergus, her elder brother by ten years, had laughed himself sick at what was, in his mind, such a boring gift, but Eilidh thought she had never seen anything so beautiful. The cover was blue-dyed leather, soft and supple to the touch. Inside, the pages were filled with flawless calligraphy and bright pictures with enough detail that her stomach hurt with butterflies every time she opened it. She had inherited her love of Andraste and the Maker from her father. Whilst Mother and Fergus, though believers, spent little time on religion, Father would spend most of his private hours in the chantry, or pouring over his own copy of the Chant in the expansive family library. Whilst Fergus bragged about becoming a soldier, Eilidh dreamed of joining the gentle Sisters in the castle chantry, devoting her life to the Maker. This worried her poor mother dreadfully, for although her daughter was not quite seven years old, Eleanor was already keeping an eye out for possible betrothals, and there was certainly no marriage allowed for the chaste Sisters!

"_Oh Maker, hear my cry:_

_Guide me through the blackest nights_

_Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked_

_Make me to rest in the warmest places_."

Eilidh recited this verse under her breath, her hands clasped together as though she held the light of the Maker himself between her fingers. It was one of her favourite verses, the one she made sure to repeat every night. Sometimes, it made her feel like she wasn't all by herself in a dark castle chamber, with the moon continuously staring.

The castle was Castle Cousland, situated in the town of Highever in the most northern reaches of Fereldan. Eilidh's father, Bryce Cousland, was one of two Teyrns in the country, putting him second only to King Maric. His people loved him and he was well-respected in court. Eilidh had yet to see the royal court. Bryce made sure not to be away from his family for long and so there was little need for him to move the entire household to the capital city of Denerim. Eilidh was in no hurry to leave her home. She had heard that young Prince Cailan only talked about swords and battles, subjects she found far from interesting. Luckily, there was nothing to worry about by way of an arranged marriage. Since birth, Cailan had been betrothed to Anora Mac Tir, the daughter of General Loghain, the king's closest friend and the only other Teyrn in Fereldan. Before Eilidh had been born, King Maric had attempted to convince her father that should he have any more sons, Bryce's first daughter be betrothed to them. Bryce had politely declined, a firm believer in letting his children find their own paths, but circumstances rendered this impossible anyway. Queen Rowan had died of a wasting sickness nine years ago and the King hadn't yet remarried. Some said he never would. Some while ago, there had been rumours that Maric had fathered a bastard child, but there were certainly no other young princes or princesses running round Denerim.

Giggling coming from the bushes beneath her window caught her attention and she ducked down, hoping she hadn't been seen. Listening carefully, she could hear more muffled laughter and the sound of kissing. She wrinkled her nose as she recognised Fergus's voice.

"No one will see us!"

More giggling,

"Fergus! If my father catches us…!"

Eilidh recognised the voice. They had a guest at the castle, an incredibly rich Antivan trader whom father had invited to stay whilst he set up contacts in Fereldan. The merchant had brought his daughter Oriana with him and Fergus had been smitten from the moment he had seen her ride through the gates. Eilidh had overheard her mother saying to Nan that she highly doubted Oriana would be leaving with her father when the time came, and that a match to a rich trader would be a good one. It was strange and highly disturbing to Eilidh that any girl would find her disgusting brother, who belched at the table and cared only for drinking ale with the young guard recruits, remotely marriage material. Why, he even picked at his teeth with the end of his dagger! Eilidh prayed that, should she be required to marry, it would be to somebody absolutely and in no way like her brother.

"Father is travelling to Lake Calenhad tomorrow," She heard Oriana whisper, "He's going to try and set up a trade contract with the Mages. There are Templars here at the castle now to escort him there early in the morning! Strange that they agreed to do so…"

"Are you going with them?" Fergus sounded urgent and, in Eilidh's opinion, had completely missed the most important part. Templars? Coming to Highever?

Throughout most of Thedas, it was believed that Mages, those who could perform magic, were dangerous and should be kept away from the rest of society. Most mages lived in the Circle Tower on the shores of Lake Calenhad, but there were some, known as Apostates, who roamed free and unchecked. It was the Templars job to watch the mages and capture the ones who lived outside the safety of the tower walls. In some cases, they were forced to kill mages to keep everybody else safe. Mages were open to possession by demons and spirits, becoming hideous abominations. Eilidh had only seen a picture of an abomination, but it was enough to ensure that Nan slept in her room with her for weeks afterwards. The Templars were a religious order, working directly alongside the Chantry. Chantry law was set highly against the favour of mages. One of the most famous speeches Andraste, the prophet from ancient times who first brought the Word of the Maker back to Fereldan, ever made was, "Magic exists to serve Man and never to rule over him." The plight of the mages was something never far from conversation.

"Eilidh…."

She jumped, fear turning her mouth dry as the door cracked open seemingly by itself. A tiny figure crept into the room, clutching a doll almost as large as itself.

"Cameron!" Her relief was mixed with anger and she leapt forwards to pull the little boy out of the doorway before anyone could see, "You shouldn't be sneaking about after Nan puts you to bed!"

The boy was shivering and looked so forlorn that her anger melted away. Taking him by the hand she led him towards her bed and helped him to climb up with her. Once they were safely hidden under the warm blankets, the boy turned his enormous blue eyes towards her.

"Scary dreams," He said, his bottom lip quivering.

Cameron Cousland, at five years old, was the youngest of the three Cousland children. Unlike Eilidh and Fergus, who were strong and healthy, Cameron had always been frail and slightly delicate. Thin and pale, his huge eyes were the only colour in him, often ringed with dark circles, the result of constant nightmares. Nobody knew when they had first started haunting him, only that he would scream and scream in his sleep. Even during the day he was jumpy, claiming he could hear the voices in his dreams when he was awake. Nan brushed it off as an overly vivid imagination, but Eilidh had seen other… things.

Almost exactly a month ago now, she and Cameron had been playing in the gardens. Hide and Seek was a firm favourite and it had been her turn to seek. She had raced through the maze garden, Mother's flower garden and the kitchen vegetable patch with little luck. However, when she came to the Cousland family plot behind the chantry, she heard him. It would have been the graveyard. In all her stories it was always the graveyard. Crouching behind a worn statue, she watched as her brother sat atop their grandfather's tomb and had a conversation with somebody who wasn't there. Somebody who wasn't there, but was answering back in a voice that was somehow not of the waking world. It sounded as though there were thousands of miles between it and them, little more than a whisper, but Cameron was chatting quite happily as though he had known this voice his whole life. Eilidh had turned tail and ran to the comfort of her mother. As a firm follower of the chantry, she did what all disciples did when something could not be explained, and wrote a letter to the chantry in Highever, explaining what she had seen. She left out her brother's name, and said only that it had happened at Castle Cousland. This soothed her nerves, and she felt sure that the Maker was watching over them more than ever. However, other than the words she had penned in that letter, she spoke nothing of the incident to anyone.

"I keep having scary dreams," Cameron prompted her, causing her to tumble from her reverie, "Things whisper in my head and then I wake up but I keep being scared." He drew closer to her, trembling little hands clutching her, "Sometimes it gets so scary I make the candles go out."

"You don't make the candles go out!" Scorn masked her own fear, "Maybe the wind does it, or Nan comes and blows them out whilst you're sleeping."

"No," He shook his head, "I look at them and they go out. Then I hear more whispers."

The door banged open and they both screamed, arms flung around each other. Nan loomed in the doorway, hands on her hips. Her steel grey hair was still pulled into a tight bun, even though she was dressed in her nightgown. Eilidh had often wondered if the nursemaid's hair was actually part of her skull and not real hair at all.

"You two!" This was more of an accusation than an exclamation, "Beds are for children to sleep in, not to natter!" She marched into the room and noticed the candle still on the window ledge, with the tell-tale book next to it, "Lady Eilidh! I have told you more than once about reading after dark!" She slammed the candle down onto the bedside table, but did not extinguish it, "Daughters of great lords must be beautiful, and they don't get that way by wasting half the night reading!"

Eilidh wasn't sure where this logic came from, but said nothing nonetheless. Saying nothing was always best when Nan was raging.

"I want to stay here!" Cameron balled his hands into fists, ready for a tantrum, his recent fear already forgotten, "I want to stay here with Eilidh!"

"And I want to be the Empress of Orlais, but sometimes we can't have what we want!" She took pity however, "You can stay here. I want no more noise though, else I'll give the maid a rest tomorrow and you can tidy your own chambers!"

They both flung themselves onto the pillows, coverlets drawn tightly around their chins. The last thing Eilidh saw before she drifted off to sleep was the candlelight flickering against the wall.

When she woke up, no more than a few hours later, she knew somehow that something was wrong. First of all, as she lay there, covers over her head, she could see that the gentle candlelight had been replaced with a cold mauve glow, the colour of dead flesh. Second, she could hear Cameron whimpering pitifully, his breath coming out in short, sharp gasps.

"What's wrong?" Sitting up, she turned to face him and all movement drained from her body. Motionless, she fell sideways, as heavy as lead.

"What have you done to her?" Cameron sobbed and something in the corner moved.

It was huge, hunched right over so that its back formed a hideous arch. Its skin was mottled purple and had caused the glow that had woken her up. It wore a cowl over its head and an assortment of leather straps which looked like they were holding its body together. As it slid towards them, Eilidh could see that it had no feet, only floated above the floor. She felt her nightdress grow wet as the fear took control of her bladder and could only watch as it drew closer. Slowly, it extended an arm covered with spines and pointed at Cameron, who scrambled further and further away.

"I won't let you inside me!" He cried, and suddenly he held a dagger in his hands. Eilidh stared. He must have stolen it from the family vault. Her heart melted. Had he kept it with him at night to protect himself from the nightmares? He must have learnt about swords from the stories. All heroes wielded some sort of weapon. And what was this about not letting the thing inside him? Was this foul thing that loomed over them a demon? Demons were the only things that hid inside the bodies of others. She closed her eyes, praying to the Maker to save her brother.

The demon's clawed hand came crashing down, knocking Cameron from the bed. The dagger spun towards her, stopping inches from her nose.

"Do not deny me, little mage!" The demon hissed, snatching Cameron from the floor and slamming him against the wall by his throat, "I will absorb your soul and walk this world as you!" So distracted was it by the prospect of prey that it lifted the spell of paralysis from Eilidh. She snatched the dagger. She could hear footsteps running towards the chamber, summoned by the noise, but there wouldn't be enough time. The dagger felt heavy and odd in her palm and she didn't know how to hold it properly. No longer able to think for fear, she dashed at the evil creature and launched herself towards it. As the door crashed open, she plunged the blade into the demon's back once, twice, three times. The creature howled and released Cameron, clawing at the wound.

"Curse!" It shrieked, "I will not be defeated by _you_!" These proved to be its last words however, as it suddenly exploded violently into a hideous dark cloud which dissipated instantly, leaving the room in silence.

"What in the Maker's name was that?"

Eilidh turned slowly, still clutching the dagger. A whole host of people had burst into the room and witnessed what she had done. Her father, Fergus, several of the guards and the Templars she had heard Oriana mention were all there, swords drawn. She could ever hear her mother outside, fighting against the guards who were attempting to stop her from entering. One of the templars stepped forward and gently pried the dagger from Eilidh's fingers.

"It was a Shade," He said, addressing the room, "They prowl about in the Fade, the place we go when we dream or die."

"How did it get here?" Eilidh had never seen her father so angry, or afraid.

"My lord," The templar grew uncomfortable, "They can only be summoned by a mage."

Bryce strode across the room, sweeping past the templar. In one arm he took Eilidh and in the other Cameron.

"My children, good ser," He said slowly, dangerously, "Are not mages. There is no magic in the bloodlines of either myself or my wife. It is impossible."

"Forgive me, my Lord," A second templar stepped forward. He had not yet removed his armour for the night. The Sword of Mercy emblazoned across his chest seemed to shimmer, "But my brother is right."

Bryce sagged.

"You did not just come here to escort a wealthy Antivan trader to the Circle, did you?" He said quietly, "You came here to escort a mage."

"We had no desire to appear deceitful," The armoured templar said firmly, "But we had word that strange activity was taking place here and we have a duty to act upon it."

"What word?" Bryce demanded, his face pale, "There is no man, woman or child here who would betray this family!"

"The chantry in Highever received a letter. Unsigned, but it said enough."

Eilidh's knees buckled and she slid out of her father's arms to the floor. It couldn't be…all letters sent to the chantry were sworn to confidence…

"I will _not_ let you take _any_ of my children!" Eleanor pushed her way into the room, standing in between the templars and her family, "I don't care what the law says, I-"

"Teyrna Cousland!" The templar spoke over her, stunning her into silence, "Not a few moments ago, one of your children summoned a demon into your home. It could have killed both of them and then it would most certainly have fed on the entire castle until there was nothing left. Would you risk losing all three of your children and more, just to avoid one being taken to a place where he would be kept safe? Would you defy the Maker himself to satisfy your own selfishness?"

Eleanor trembled,

"He?"

"We believe your son, Lord Cameron is the mage," The first templar spoke, "The letter indicated that the mage was a young boy."

"Well we have squires here!" Eleanor pulled a weeping Cameron from his father to cradle in her own arms, "There are many young boys at this castle! Who is to say which one of them summoned the creature?"

"Demons appear close to their summoner. In the same room. My lady, we do not believe your son intended to summon it. Often, when mages are young they do not know when they are calling out. Yet still, he brought it here."

"I can make the candles go out," Cameron told his mother, unaware that his words only condemned him further, "And my dreams speak to me every night."

Eleanor let out a wail that broke the last of Eilidh's composure. She started to cry loudly.

"See what you have done?" Fergus exclaimed loudly, rounding on the group of templars, "Father, command them to leave!"

"We will leave," The armoured templar said, "But your son will be leaving with us. If you turn him into an Apostate, we will only be forced to hunt him."

"No!" Eleanor sobbed, "Please don't hurt him!"

"Then allow us to keep him safe."

"Enough!"

The resignation in Bryce Cousland's voice made them all turn. The Teyrn went to his son and placed a hand on his cheek,

"My duty is to my family," He said slowly, "And my family have my love more than anything else in this world. Yet, as Teyrn, I have a duty higher than family; to my people. To everybody in this castle. If my son threatens their safety, then I must act fairly, and without regard to my own feelings on the matter." He turned to his wife, "Eleanor… the Circle in Fereldan is not a cruel place. He will be cared for, taught to use the gifts the Maker has given him. He would not be cut off from us, just… just not always in the same place."

Eleanor said nothing, although the pain in her eyes said everything. Not able to look at her youngest child, she left the room.

"Mama?" Cameron called after her, and they all heard her scream of anguish as the door closed behind her.

_I have done this_, Eilidh held her head in her hands, rocking backward and forwards, _I have done this to them. To Mama, to Papa… to Cameron._ With surprising gentleness, the armoured templar took Cameron's hand,

"Would you come with us?" He asked, although the decision had long been made, "The Circle Tower lets its inhabitants' families visit as often as they like?"

"Father!" Fergus was not convinced, "You cannot let this happen! His is my brother!"

"And mine!" Eilidh found her voice. She ran to her elder brother and took his hand, "You can't take him! The Maker wouldn't take people's families away!"

"Sweet child," The first templar spoke again, "It was the Maker who first condemned mages to Andraste."

"But it doesn't say that!" Eilidh frantically turned to her father, "The book doesn't say that!"

"I want to stay here!" Cameron joined the voices of the Cousland children, "I don't want to go to the big tower!"

The armoured templar looked to the Teyrn. Bryce nodded. Two of the templars who had remained silent broke off from the crowd and took Cameron's hands. The frightened child began to squirm and kick, screaming, forcing them to take him by the arms instead.

"Papa!" He reached out to Bryce as he was carried from the room, "Eilidh!"

Eilidh dashed under her brother's legs and out into the hallway after her brother. They would not take him. They would not take her brother, not when this was all her fault. She was caught from behind, and found that it was the armoured templar. She kicked out, but he lifted her from her feet, careful not to hurt her.

"This girl killed a Shade," He said to Bryce, handing her over, "Grown men have fallen to those beasts, but this little thing did not." He addressed Eilidh directly, "I saw the Chant of Light by your window. You wish to become a Sister?"

She said nothing. She wanted to reach out and hurt him until he brought her brother back.

"A word of advice. This world needs people who can fight. You would be wasted as a Sister." He turned to leave, and threw over his shoulder, almost as an afterthought, "Let her keep that dagger."


End file.
